


Perimeter Tension

by felineapologist



Category: Ethoslab - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), docm77 - Fandom
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attack, internalized ableism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-25
Updated: 2014-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-30 00:46:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6401062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felineapologist/pseuds/felineapologist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Doc's creeper biology begins to act up, he calls on an old friend to help him out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perimeter Tension

**Author's Note:**

> This is set inside season 4 of Mindcrack, when he and Etho were both active on the server.

Doc had originally started building the Rube Goldberg machines as a fun way for his audience to get involved with the massive undertaking that was the perimeter, but recently he’d begun to hear comments that he was dragging the whole thing out longer than it needed to be. He sighed in frustration. His viewers hadn’t seen the amount of time and effort he’d devoted to digging, and they never would, as he didn’t see a point in recording what would be incredibly repetitive footage.

He slung his pickaxe over his shoulder and trodded back to his base, finished repairing one of the critical elements of the machine from an accidental explosion. The maintenance was yet another thing his viewers wouldn’t fully appreciate.

Unconsciously he started to hiss, as he did when he felt under threat. It was always difficult to calm himself down from the stress caused by more abstract sources than physical danger. He tried to put the issue out of his mind, but it couldn’t be so simple. The witch farm project had taken over most of his life, and he couldn’t stop the Rube Goldberg where it was because -

Doc suddenly became aware of his puffy, paler skin, and the fact that he’d been staring off into the distance for several minutes. He shook his head and groaned, trying to concentrate on simply getting to his bed.

He was climbing up the second set of stairs when his prosthetic arm pinched his swollen shoulder painfully. Doc shouted in surprise, noticing too late that the shock had made him even more swollen and trembling than before, so that now the cybernetic faceplate dug into his neck.

Doc collapsed on the stairs, flashing bright white, trying desperately to literally hold himself together when all his instincts told him he was in mortal danger. It took quite a few minutes before he regained the presence of mind to think about getting to bed again.

He looked doubtfully at the last three stairs, then took a deep breath and dug the shortwave radio out of his labcoat’s pocket.

“Etho?” he said, doing his best to keep the panicked hiss out of his voice, wincing when he dragged out the “th” for too long.

“Doc, hey!” came the surprised but pleasant reply. “Is something up?”

“Etho, could you come over please,” Doc said, immediately regretting the decision to say please.

“Right away,” Etho said, recognizing instantly that this was very serious.

“Thank you,” he said in exhaustion, resting his head on the stair and closing his eye.

Soon, Etho arrived through the Nether portal, brushing off the clinging purple magic. He called out softly, knowing that Doc had trouble with being surprised in the past. “Are you here, Doc?”

A muffled noise of assent from the stair. Etho approached carefully, every footstep audible but not too loud.

“I’m right here, Doc,” Etho murmured, holding out his empty palms to Doc, curled in a quivering heap of pain.

“Thank god,” came the trembling response. “Help me up the - help me get up - take me to my bed if you would.”

“Can you walk with my help or should I carry you?” Etho continued in the same quiet, soothing voice.

“I don’t know.” Doc hesitated. He made as if to pull himself up, then set his face back down on the oak. “Can’t,” he choked.

“Alright,” Etho said, not needing a full sentence to understand his meaning. He set one hand on Doc’s shoulder to test - he didn’t want to go straight for a vulnerable area like his neck or exposed back. Doc hissed out a long breath, seeming to deflate a little.

“It’s okay, Etho, I know it’s you, just walk me through it.” Doc chuckled quietly as he realized that he’d made a pun.

“Okay, I’m moving my hand to your other shoulder. I’m turning you over. Gently… Now I’m putting my arm under your legs. I’m going to lift you up now. I have you in my arms. We’re going up the stairs. … Okay, I’m going to set you on your bed now.”

“I need to take these off,” Doc grunted as he tugged at his prosthetic arm.

Etho flailed briefly. “But - let me help?”

“Twist that. Okay, you have to pull out the screw. Now pull it -” Doc briefly rustled in warning, grimacing. “Careful!” he growled.

“Sorry,” Etho said hastily.

Etho hadn’t realized before how many mechanical parts helped make up the Doc that he knew. His eyes grew a little wider each time, both from curiosity and newfound understanding.

Finally there was just the faceplate to remove. Doc cringed away from Etho’s hands, unable to push his hands away or run. “Not… not yet,” he whispered.

Etho felt his stomach lurch at the raw pain in Doc’s gaze. They were silent a moment. Doc looked away first.

“Etho, can you watch me for the night?” Doc said quietly, focusing intently on a knot in the oak floor.

Etho nodded, cautiously wrapping an arm around his friend, who turned and buried his face in his puffy green vest.

~*~


End file.
